Inner Fire
by Skyrocket
Summary: A bizzare murder quickly leads a cop to the fact that there are things in this world worse than hating mutants. A TCP story.


Inner Fire

Inner Fire

My name is Gary Tate and I have a story to tell. I guess I should start at the beginning, and my story, like so many others, starts in New York City.

Just a few years ago I was living and working there as a member of the NYPD. Believe you me, there's no place in the world where a cop's life is crazier than in Manhattan. Everyday it was something new. The Hulk was running wild in Greenwich Village, the Wreaking Crew were smashing up Harlem, demons were loose on Broadway, ninjas had been sighted in Hell's Kitchen, the Masters of Evil were attacking Avengers Mansion, Carnage was slaughtering people in SoHo or Galactus was trying to eat the world. Again. 

Yeah, it was a madhouse and I loved every second of it. My wife, Nancy, on the other hand, less so. I can't tell you how many times we had the same old argument about how she wanted to "get the hell out of this crazy city" while I wanted to stay.

That was just about the only thing she and I ever argued about. I was finally starting to think I'd heard the last of those arguments when Nancy dropped a bombshell on me with just two words; "I'm pregnant".

That changed everything. You see, I grew up in Queens and Nancy was raised on Long Island. So New York, and the weirdness that comes with it, was old hat to us. Nancy and I may have seen living in a Big Apple full of super people differently but we were used to it. We knew how to a handle it. But a baby…

It took her a while, but eventually Nancy convinced me that a city were demigods slugged it out in the streets on a regular basis might not be the best place to raise our child. So, with a heavy heart and a lot of great memories, Nancy and I packed up and moved to Charleston, South Carolina where she had family.

It didn't take long to get settled in. I joined the Charleston PD's homicide unit and Nancy (did I mention that she was a chef?) landed a job at a very nice restaurant. We got a big house in a quite neighborhood and all seemed right with the world.

Then came the night of June seventeenth. 

~*~

I'd gotten a call to help investigate a suspicious death in one of the city's upper middle class neighborhoods. As I drove up I could see two patrol cars, an ambulance and a fire truck parked in front of one of the houses. Looking closer I saw that the house had suffered some fire damage but it was hard to tell how much.

I'd barely had a chance to step out of my car before I was flagged down by Chuck Crowl, a patrolmen and buddy of mine. "Gary, man, am I glad you're here. We've got a weird one here," he said.

"Hey, Chuck. A 'weird one', huh? I guess you should show me the body."

"Follow me." With that, Chuck lead me past some firemen rolling up hose to a white sheet which covered the prone form that lay in the grass. "We got an ID on the victim yet?" I ask.

"Yeah, one Robert Haywood. He lived here with his daughter, Janie."

"Does she know about this?"

"The firemen found her passed out on the lawn a couple yards from her dad when they arrived. The EMPs are still looking her over. One of them said that she'd break the news to her." 

I lifted the sheet to have a look at the body of Robert Haywood. Chuck averted his eyes. Not that I blame him. What was left wasn't very pretty. I remember seeing several corpses like this during that "Inferno" mess, as the media had dubbed it back in NYC. Grisly just doesn't cover it. 

"Defiantly a closed casket funeral," I remarked. 

"Not funny, Gary. I about lost my lunch when I saw that."

"Sorry, Chuck. Just trying to lighten the mood. Okay, this just an eyeball assessment, but this looks pretty cut and dry to me. The guy runs out of his house on fire, forgets to stop, drop and roll and gets the mother of all sunburns. What's so weird?"

"The footprints," answered Chuck. 

I took a closer look at the yard and sure enough, about ten feet from the front of the house a trail of scorched footprints began and lead to the body. 

"I still don't see it, pal. The guy's on fire, he runs out of the house and leaves a tra--" 

That's when it hit me. 

"Wait. The trail doesn't start until about ten feet from the house. If he'd been on fire when he ran outside his burn trail would have covered the whole yard until he reached here. But it doesn't so that means--"

"The guy didn't catch on fire until he was outside and away from the blaze," finished Chuck.

"I guess I'd better go talk to the girl. She's probably going to be our only witness one this one."

I tracked down one of the EMPs and she gave me the go-ahead to talk to the girl. I found her sitting in the back of the ambulance wrapped in a blanket and staring at her feet. She looked to be about fifteen, was about 5'6, had dark hair cut very short and was wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt with the name of one of the local high schools on it. 

"You must be Janie," I began. "I'm Detective Tate. I know you're probably very upset right now, but I need to ask you some questions. But first, I have to tell you tha--"

"That my dad's dead? I already know. One of the ambulance people told me," she said in a monotone voice. 

__

Poor kid, I thought. _She must be in shock._

"Yes, he's dead. I'm very sorry for your loss."

At the word "loss" she gave me a look that reminded me of the face people make when they find dog crap on their shoe. "No loss. I'm glad my dad is dead. I hope he burns in hell forever."

Now I'd been a cop a long time and I've never heard anyone say anything with so much venom in their voice. "Janie, are you saying you killed your father?" I asked warily. In the back of my mind I thought I already knew the answer.

"Yeah, I killed him. And I'd do again if I could."

The way this girl was just saying this stuff, her voice so cold, was sending shivers down my spine. "Janie, if you plan on confessing I'm going to have to read you your rights first. You have the righ--"

"I know what my god damn rights are! I watch _Homicide_, you know!" she flared.

Not knowing what else to do, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my mini tape recorder which I always carry when on duty. "Okay, you've waved your right to be silent. Tell me what you have to say." 

__

God, what is this?, I wondered What in the world could make a girl who isn't even old enough to drive kill her father and actually take pleasure in it?

"It all started where I was born," she began. "Back in Richmond, Virginia. On the outside we looked like the typical family. My folks had good jobs, we lived in a nice house and were friends with all the neighbors. The all-American family. 

"At least that's how it looked on the outside. The truth is my mom and dad fought all the time. Everyday for as long as I could remember. I never really knew what they argued about. When the shouting would start I'd go into my room and hide under the covers of my bed."

"Sounds bad," I said. "But what does thi--"

"I'm getting to that!" she snapped. 

I knew I'd have to watch it. This girl is wound very tight right then. 

"Like you said, it was bad. But then after I turned seven it got worse. Much worse. One night I was sleeping and my dad came into my room and woke me up. He said we were going to play a game. A special game that only daddies and daughters played. That was when he took off my nightgown and unzipped his pants."

God damn if couldn't feel myself getting a bit pale. In my years on the force I'd heard stories like this before but it never failed to twist my guts. 

Janie looked at me with a haft-smirk on her face. "I'll take that look on your face as a sign that you've heard of this game. As you can imagine I didn't like it very much. No matter how many times we played it."

"What about your mother? She must have had some clue as to wh--"

"My mom knew. I told about it a bunch of times. She just didn't want to admit to herself that it was happening. Anytime I would say something she'd just spank me and tell me not to lie."

Jeez, with a childhood like that no wonder the girl was bitter. Who wouldn't be?

"Mom and dad finally divorced when I was nine. It was the happiest day of my life. Dad moved down here and we stayed in Richmond. I thought that my dad was finally out of my life forever. Mom never would admit that dad did anything to me so I just decided to get on with my life.

"Unfortunately, that life fell apart three mouths ago. Mom was killed in a car accident while I was at school. She hadn't even been buried when dad showed up wanting custody. My grandparents, my mom's folks, tried to fight to get me but my dad hired some really slick lawyer to be on his side."

"Surly you must have said something about what he'd done to you then," I said.

"Of course I did, stupid! But my dad also hired some fancy psychologist who convinced the judge that I was making it all up because I was still traumatized by mom dying. My grandparents believed me and fought real hard, but the judge gave me to my dad and I was forced to come down here." 

"So what happened when you came home with your dad? Did he try to touch you again?"

"No, at first that's what I expected him to do. But he just started playing "World's Greatest Dad" taking me out, buying me things and saying how sorry he was for not being there to watch me grow."

"And did you confront him about what you believed he'd done to you?" I probed.

"Of course! That's the first thing I did when I walked in the door of his place. He just denied it. He just gave me all that crap the psychologist had said about me being traumatized. 

"But I knew it was true. Every night I'd wait for him to come into my bedroom. For him to start the nightmare all over again. But it never happened. He never came. Until today.

"I was sitting in the living room watching TV when he walked in with this grin on his face. I knew that grin. He'd always had on his face when we'd played our 'games.' 

"He said, 'Okay, Janie, it's time.' I asked him time for what even though I knew what he meant. "It's been three mouths since your mother died. That's plenty of time for you to get over it. I've played the good father and helped you to move on. Now it's time to start earning your keep."

I felt like I want to be sick. If that was true, Robert Haywood was a monster of the worst sort.

"That was when he reached for me. I screamed but he smacked me upside the head. I fell, whacked my head on the coffee table and hit the floor. I was so stunned I could barely hear his voice. 'There'll be none of that while your under my roof, missey!'" he yelled. "It's time I taught you who's in charge around here!"

"I'm fuzzy on what happened next. The first thing I felt was pain. Horrible pain all though my body. Then I felt the heat. If you took the hottest summer day you've ever known and multiplied it a thousand times you still wouldn't be anywhere close to that heat. Then I heard my dad shouting. 

"When I opened my eyes the first thing I saw was that the coffee table was on fire. Then I realized so was most of the living room. My dad was glaring at me screaming, 'What did you do, you little bitch?!! What did you do?!'

"Then I noticed my hands were on fire. They were covered in flame but I didn't feel the heat or any pain. I screamed and suddenly the flames covering my hands vanished. 

"I was so shocked I barely noticed my dad running out of the front door. Not knowing what else to do I followed. I'd just made it to the door and dad to the lawn when he looked back. Our eyes met and I saw something I had never seen before in my dad's eyes: fear. He was afraid of me. For a change he was afraid of me.

"That's when it happened. All those years of pain, fear, anger and shame boiled to the surface. My father was now afraid of me. Well, I'd give him a reason to be afraid!

"Everything I was feeling, everything he'd done to me seemed to shoot out of me and into him. He screamed. Loudly. Then he began to burn. He managed to make it a few steps before he fell to the ground. I ran out near him and began to scream, 'Burn, you bastard! Burn for what you did!'

"Then I started to get dizzy. I guess I must have passed out. The next thing I remember is one of those ambulance people shinning a light in my eyes and asking me if I was okay."

A long silence pervaded the back of the ambulance. Eventually, Janie broke it. "You know what means don't you?"

"Yes, I'd say you have a very good case for self defense. Once we figure out how you killed your dad, that is," I assured.

"God, for a cop you're kinda dense," she sighed. Then she held her hand up in front of her and with a little "whoosh" they burst into flame. "I guess this means I'm a mutant." 

A mutant. I must really have been off my game that night. After all the things I'd seen in New York, I should have thought of a mutant first thing. "Janie, put that fire out. I'm going to try to help to help you but you have to put the fire out," I said as calmly as I could.

"I wasn't going to roast you," she whispered as the flame died. That was the first time I'd heard her speak without anger in her voice. "What's going to happen to me?"

"Well, I --"

"They're going to send me to the Vault aren't they? That's were they send mutants who kill, isn't it?"

"Janie, no one is sending you to the Vault. This is a case of self-defense. It'll be okay."

"You promise?" she asked. She'd started to cry by then.

"Yeah, it's going to be okay." I really hoped I wasn't lying to her. With anti-mutant sentiment what it is today, Janie's was a ripe target for any judge or politician looking to show that they were hard on mutants. I knew I'd be damned if I'm going to let that happen to this girl! 

"Look, I'm going to have to go and make some arrangements for you. Once people find out you're a mutant you're going to need special protection. You stay here and I'll be back as soon as I can." Janie gave me a nod and wiped away some tears as I climbed out of the back of the ambulance. 

A mutant. I just knew that the local chapters of the Friends of Humanity were going to have a field day with this one. Forget the F.O.H., how were the guys on the force going to handle this? I knew some of them had no love for mutants.

That's when I heard a gigantic "WHOOOOSH!!!" from behind me. I turned to see Janie stepping out of the ambulance her whole body covered in flame. "I won't let him win!" she screamed.

Behind me my fellow officers began to react.

"It's the Human Torch!"

"No, stupid, it's the girl!"

"She's a mutie!"

I could see it all in my mind even as I watched Janie burn like a walking star. Guns came out of holsters, aim was taken and shots were fired. The firing seemed to go on forever before Janie fell.

"We got her!"

"Why the hell did it take her so long to drop?! We must have pumped her full of enough lead to kill a rhino!"

"It was the fire! She actually melted most of our bullets!"

"Yeah, but not all of 'em. We got her!"

"Damn, mutie! I bet she killed her dad for kicks!"

I tried to ignore those voices as I ran to Janie. Her fire was out but her chest was covered in blood. One look and I knew she wouldn't make it.

I reached down to cradle her head in my arms and she looked at me. "Janie, what have you done?" I asked as I felt the tears began to flow.

"I couldn't let him win," she wheezed.

"Who? Your father?"

"Yeah, even dead he still can make my life hell. I was going to go spend the rest of my life rotting in jail because of him. I know that he'd look up at me, from whatever pit of hell he's in, and see me in a cell. And he'd grin. He'd know he was still torturing me. I couldn't let him win."

"You didn't let him win, Janie," I whispered. In the back of my mind I realized that all the other cops are watching this and wondering what's going on but I didn't care. "You won, Janie. You're free of him now. And you're going to go to a place where no one will ever be able to hurt you again."

"Really free?" She was almost gone. I could see the light in her eyes fading.

"Yeah, really free."

"Free…" she repeated. And then she was gone.

The location of the funeral was kept secret so as to keep anti-mutant militants from stirring up trouble. During the service I got to meet Janie's grandparents. They were the only ones who came besides Nancy and I. They were wonderful people so I was very glad to give them three bits of news that they might find comforting.

The first thing was that Robert's death had been ruled a justifiable homicide. This was one of the first cases in America were a mutant had used their powers to kill and had it ruled justifiable.

After Janie died there were plenty of people, some on the force, which wanted to label her as just another psycho mutant. But me and my recording of Janie's story put a stop to that. I caught flack from a lot of folks for being a "mutie lover" but there was no way I was going to let that girl's memory be smeared. 

While I may have saved Janie's good name, I knew my family's life in Charleston was over. Some people, like Chuck Crowl, stuck by us but it wasn't enough. Nancy lost her job at the restaurant and my superiors made it clear they didn't want me around. I made it easy for them and resigned.

The second piece of news was that Janie's death had been ruled a suicide. A suicide-by-cop if you want the technical name. Not the best of endings, but at least Janie won't go down in history as a mutant that tried to kill a bunch of policemen. 

The last bit of news I gave the grandparents was better. I introduced them to Nancy and I's daughter, Janie Amanda Tate. We asked them to be her godparents and they readily agreed.

We moved out of Charleston a mouth after Janie's funeral. We did go back to New York but not the city. Instead, we moved to Buffalo were I got job as a security guard and Nancy found work at a new restaurant.

Things are good now and Janie is growing like a weed. She's already started walking which is making Nancy and I's hair turn gray that much faster. And I thought being a cop was hard. Trying to arrest Dr. Octopus or the Absorbing Man is nothing compared to being a dad.

One of these days, when she's old enough, I'm going to sit Janie down and tell her how she got her name. I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to tell her. What I do know is that I'm going to say that Janie Haywood was a girl who was dealt a terrible hand by life but managed to endure. I'll tell her that her namesake refused to let herself be abused and that at the end she died free and with dignity.

Rest in peace, Janie Haywood. You earned it. 

****

The End


End file.
